


Asylum Wanted

by lost_in_thyme_and_spacebars



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: F/F, Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 05:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2570633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_thyme_and_spacebars/pseuds/lost_in_thyme_and_spacebars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Nyota Uhura and First Officer Spock beam down to a planet after receiving a looped distress signal requesting asylum. When the weather takes a turn for the worse, they end up stranded until morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Asylum Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Please see the end for plot specific warnings. I don't want to spoil anything but I'd like to not cause any (unwanted) distress.  
> I hope you enjoy the story!  
> Written for Prompt: Captain Uhura

They had been in stranger situations, she thought to herself as she brushed aside yet another web from the fireplace. Her fingers tingled as its occupant scrambled across the tips of her fingers, and it was all she could do not to scream. The acoustics of the room amplified even the slightest noise, and who knows what creatures such an exclamation could disturb.

‘Captain, I have found a supply of firewood in the underground room. I have brought some with me, and if it meets your requirements I shall retrieve the rest.’

‘Thank you, Mr Spock. This is perfect. Although, since we are stuck here for the foreseeable future, how about we lose the formalities, ok?’

‘As you wish, Ms Uhura.’

She tapped her foot on the ground and glared at the Vulcan in exasperated amusement.

‘… Nyota.’

‘That wasn’t so hard now, was it? I’ll try to get this fire set up by the time you get back.’

She watched the retreating form of her first officer and sighed. He was very efficient, and when he was relaxed he was a pleasant companion, but after three years working together she would have expected his demeanour to have softened at least slightly. Gathering the wood in her arms, she began to arrange the logs in an approximation of a campfire. Moving carefully in order to avoid the sharp spikes of the iron grate, she suppressed a shiver. This place would be a lot more comfortable once the fire was going – it was freezing. 

‘I have returned.’ She smiled and straightened up, wiping her sooty hands on the soft gold of her uniform. This earned a raised eyebrow from Spock, but she ignored it in favour of the bundle he held in his arms. 

‘That should keep us going for the night at least’ she said, relief settling in. By the morning the storm should have passed, and they should be able to get a response from the Enterprise.  
It should have been a fairly simple mission. They had received a looped distress signal from the planet less than 12 hours ago, requesting asylum for a woman and her three children. There had been little information included, but it had seemed straightforward enough. Christine, her CMO, had requested that she take a small team to the surface, but when the source of the message had been determined to be a large, fairly well maintained home she hadn’t seen the need. ‘I’ll be back before you know it, darling’ she had whispered in her ear, turning towards the transporters. ‘Mr Spock will be accompanying me, and you know he wouldn’t let anything happen.’

The tremulous smile that had softened the fair features of her wife filled her with warmth. She was going to get an earful tomorrow, certainly, but she would be happy to be in her arms again.   
The sound of a phaser brought her back to the present, and a warm light emanated from the fireplace. They fed the fire until it was crackling merrily and huddled as close to it as possible without risk of setting themselves on fire. 

‘I’ll take first watch’ Spock said. ‘You are tired, and I can last a lot longer without sleep. Rest now, I will wake you up later.’

‘What, not going to try to convince me that you can do it all?’

‘From our previous excursions, I have reasoned that to do so would be a waste of time’. There was tiny quirk to his lips as he spoke, and his eyes were softer than they had been earlier. ‘Sleep well, Nyota.’

~*~

‘Mummy? Why won’t you wake up?’

She woke with a jolt, heart pounding in her ears. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘Hear what? I assure you, there has been no change in our environment since the beginning of my watch.’

The rain tapped at the windows and the wind blew softly through the room. Nothing had moved.

‘I’m sorry, Spock. I heard…’ 

He tilted his head fractionally, as if inviting her to continue.

‘You’re going to think it’s silly, but I heard the children. The ones from the recording.’

‘Nyota, there’s no-one here. We looked everywhere.’

‘I know. From the state this place was in, I don’t think there has been anyone for a long time. Anyway,’ she said, stretching her arms up and out ‘I’m awake now, so I might as well take over.’

‘Very well, I am here if I am needed’

The soft sound of his breathing became slower, settling into a gentle rhythm. It was comforting, to be honest. Crawling forward, she added some more wood to the fire, using the bellows to help the flames take to the new material. 

Sitting back, she closed her eyes and let the tension ease from her muscles. A warm hand touched her arm, and she smiled. Who’d have thought the Vulcan was an affectionate sleeper? Another hand rested lightly on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. When did he move so close? She should probably move, she didn’t want him to be embarrassed later.

It wasn’t until the third hand caressed her cheek that she realised that something was not quite right. Her eyes flew open and the pressure vanished instantly, a cold breeze wrapping around her body. The flickering light cast shadows on the wall, turning the sparse furniture into twisted caricatures of themselves. 

A soft scurrying sound echoed around the room, followed by breathy giggles and the scratching of nails against wood. She could see movement out of the corner of her eye, but her head wouldn’t move. She couldn’t move at all.

The wind picked up, scattering sparks and ashes into her lap and over her skin. There were drawings on the walls of the fireplace – crudely shaped people, buildings and animals drawn onto the stone.   
The air surrounding her shaped itself into long, spindly hands that stroked her shoulders. They ran along her neck, through her hair and rested with fingers spread upon her face; one hand on each side, fastening themselves to her pressure points. 

The scuffling drew nearer, and small figures approached from the shadows. They were heartbreakingly thin, their clothes hanging loosely from their frames. They looked vulnerable. One of the long fingers holding her in place lifted to beckon them closer. 

As they came closer her, the cold hands pressed tighter into her flesh, forcing her to meet their eyes. Hands reached out for her, cautious and quiet. They were so cold, she thought, as they moved to surround her. Her hand stroked the hair of the head now resting in her lap, whilst the other two nuzzled her arms and chest.

The hands became air once again, swirling around the group once, twice, and then vanishing. A soft light began to fill the room, and she realised that the rain had stopped. She had no idea how long ago. Looking down at the children, seeing their pale features illuminated, she felt a pang of sorrow. How long had they been left alone? She couldn’t tell their ages, the grime and dirt making it almost impossible to try. In the recording they had sounded so young.

‘Spock?’

‘Yes, Captain?’ came the reply, voice muffled with sleep.

‘There’s something I need to do before we leave. Can you look after the children?’

‘Nyota… there are no children. Remember?’ He stirred, opening his eyes and glancing up at her. His face twisted in shock as he took in the scene before him. There she was, lit by the dawn, tangled in a mass of limbs and covered in goodness knows what. There were clear markings on her cheeks – five ovals on each side. Almost like fingerprints. 

His face rearranged itself into its normal, expressionless mask. ‘Very well, Captain.’

She stood slowly, carefully dislodging the hands that grasped for her, and walked towards the fire. It was down to the last glowing embers, and she carefully swept them aside.

‘We didn’t know what to do’ came a soft voice from her side. She looked back to see a young boy standing next to her. There were tear tracks running down his face. ‘She just didn’t wake up one day.’  
She undid the bolt in the floor, and lifted the stone. Choking back a sob, she called over to Spock. They spent the next hour digging a grave in the overgrown garden outside. The body, now no more than a skeleton dressed in dated finery, was laid to rest by mid-morning. The children covered the grave with flowers, and sang softly to each other as they bid their home goodbye. Her voice breaking, she joined in, singing the sad sweet lullaby as they made their way back.

‘This is Commander Spock. Come in, Enterprise.’

‘Enterprise here. What took you so long, dammit! We were worried, you know? It took me hours to convince Christine to leave the bridge.’

‘My apologies, Doctor McCoy. The weather made it impractical to return at the designated time, and communications were severely disrupted.’

‘Just get back up here already. Two to beam up? Last I heard the mission was looking pretty hopeless.’

‘Actually, Doctor, there are five of us.’

Nyota looked down at the faces currently full of trepidation. ‘ Its OK. You won’t be alone anymore.’ 

She’ll make sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Contains a haunted house, helplessness, abandoned souls and grieving.


End file.
